The Fallout Job
by EFAW
Summary: He can't forgive her for what she did. She can't ask for forgiveness. Things just didn't turn out the way she expected. Oneshot.


**Summary:** He can't forgive her for what she did. She can't ask for forgiveness. Things just didn't turn out the way she expected. Oneshot.

**Warnings: **Set during The Second David Job, after Sophie's apologized to everyone for conning them.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Leverage, but that doesn't mean the plot bunnies let me rest.

**It's been a long time, hasn't it? I feel like I haven't finished a fanfic in ages, and then I realized that I really hadn't. So here's my tentative foray back into the field. It's been a while, so forgive any stiffness in prose or plot. I'm still working out these dormant writing muscles.**

**So, I always wondered how Sophie's apology to Nate went, since they never showed it on the show, and her apology to everyone else went so badly. I came up with this.**

**OOOO**

**The Fallout Job**

What hurt the most was that she'd betrayed them.

Nate stared blankly into his glass, the familiar burn of the scotch failing miserably to clear his mind. He was pissed. He was pissed at Sophie, yes, but he was also pissed at himself for trusting her. He should have known. He should have known that she was a thief. Just because they'd been doing some good, just because they'd been helping people, didn't mean they weren't still thieves. Not just Sophie-all of them. All of them were thieves, and he should have kept that in mind all along.

But somewhere along the line, they'd become a team, and he'd let his guard down. Foolish, he knew, because they couldn't be trusted. But he _had_. He'd trusted them to cover his back, he'd trusted them with each aspect of their cons…

He'd trusted them with everything but himself. And Sam.

No one touched the parts of himself that held Sam.

But she had. With one vicious stroke, she'd ripped that bleeding wound a little farther open, caused a little more pain. Grew a little more tainted hope. She was right. This was personal with him. This job, this business, had _always_ been personal. It was him, getting back at the big guys for what they'd done to screw over the little guys. And yes, he _had_ built Leverage in the same city as Blackpoole, because he knew if he was patient enough and waited long enough, he would have a chance to screw that bastard over.

But dammit, at least everyone had _known_ his motivations. He hadn't hid it from them.

He hadn't tried to con his own team.

He honestly didn't know why he'd gone back for them. They'd all agreed to separate, and they'd all agree to disappear for six months before they even _thought_ about getting back together. But even knowing the risks, even knowing that Sterling probably had their faces handed out to every guard around, each went about recon in their own ways to pull of the con, trying to do separately what they'd failed to do together. A security guard, a maintenance man, two tourists…all relatively effective disguises.

But not when the guards were on alert and watching out for them.

They'd all been stupid, and he should have left well enough alone. Should have let them all reap the consequences of being idiots. They made their choices. If they got caught because of sloppy workmanship and extra-sensitive security, he should have let them handle it.

Except…

Except they'd all come out of the museum together, which meant they'd congregated together inside. Even with Sophie's betrayal, even with their agreement to separate, they'd instantly converged into one team again. Even if he hadn't known for certain they'd do that, he must have known _somewhere_ inside. Otherwise, he wouldn't have showed up.

They still thought of each other as a team, even after everything that happened.

They _were_ a team.

Nate frowned, swirling his glass, the ice clinking musically.

They were a team, but he still couldn't forgive her.

She'd conned them all, for her own selfish greed. This wasn't about the clients, this wasn't about helping someone else out. This wasn't even about helping out one of the team, like they'd done with Parker and those orphans in Serbia. They'd all known how Parker felt about the orphans, and they'd come along to help.

No, this had been all about Sophie. For her to steal and have both Davids at once. No one had done that in, what was it, four hundred years. She wanted the fame and the glory that counted for almost more than gold in the world they lived in, and she'd betrayed them to get it.

And she'd used Sam.

The frown turned to a scowl, and he shot the scotch down, wincing as the burn hit his throat. Then he poured himself another glass, the rage quietly simmering.

How _dare_ she? How dare she use _his_ child, all for a…a _trinket_, a miniature statue that was worth _nothing_ compared to Sam! He would have been able to forgive her for it if this had been all about him getting revenge. If this had been about just him and Blackpoole, he could have forgiven her. Hell, he might have forgiven her if she'd actually _told_ him her plan. He'd have been a little pissed, yes, but he might have forgiven her.

But this? The way she'd done it? The way she'd used his son, for nothing more than her own greed and pride?

How could he forgive that?

**XXXX**

She stood in the doorway, hesitant, prepping the words in her mind. She had a whole speech prepared, though it was different from the speech she'd given the others. After all, Nate wasn't a thief.

Nate was an _honest man_.

He may have become a black king, but he was still the most honest man Sophie knew. He may lie and cheat and steal to get what he wanted from people, but he only did it for someone else.

She took one more breath, solidifying the words in her mind, and stepped through the door.

The sight of him sitting there, half-turned towards her, not even looking at her direction at all, made her freeze in the doorway, the words of her carefully constructed speech fluttering out of her mind in an instant. She had been dreading this confrontation, dreading what he would say to her, which was why she'd saved him for last. She'd spent hours labouring over what she was going to say, and now, faced with him, the words were as nonexistant as the Davids she'd sought.

Floundering, she opened her mouth, but nothing came out because she didn't have any words.

He saved her the trouble.

"You used me."

The protests sprang instantly to her lips, all of her justifications, but all she could squeeze out of her throat was a feeble, "N-no, I didn't-"

He cut her off sharply. "Yes, Sophie. You did. You used me and you used my son to get what you wanted." He smiled ruefully, swirling his glass, the ice sounding loud in the otherwise silent room. "Just like Dubenich."

She blanched, flinching back, and he looked at her, eyes dark and cold. "You used Sam just like Dubenich did."

"Nate, I-"

"No." He stood, and even though she was sure he was drunk, he moved with a fluidity that reminded her of Eliot. The coiled grace of a snake tensing up to strike. In a deceptively straight line, he drew even with her, staring down at her with eyes that froze water and a voice that was just as frigid. "No. I don't want any of your justifications. You knew what you were doing and you knew what you were using. And Sophie?" He leaned forward, and this close, she could smell the alcohol on his breath, but she couldn't find it in herself to move away.

She swallowed. "Yes, Nate?"

He stared at her, the ice in his eyes so cold it burned. "It's. Never. Going. To. Happen. Again. _Never._ You don't con your own team, and you don't use my son. _Ever again._" There was no fighting that voice. No protesting against his words.

She _had_ used him. She'd brought his son into it, knowing full well how that would make him react, and she'd betrayed them because she wanted both Davids.

God, how could she have been so stupid? Nate's trust was just as hard to get as Eliot's was. Eliot was guarded. He didn't let people sneak up on him, he always made sure to be watching out behind him and in front of him, but he trusted the other members of the team, as much as he could. They hadn't hurt him, and they hadn't left him to die somewhere, so he trusted them to watch his back. But he didn't trust them with his personal life. Only bits and pieces.

Just like any of them, really.

But Nate…Nate was so much more guarded. He kept people at arm's length, he didn't touch them unless it was a con -or he was wasted out of his mind- and he didn't let people in. Eliot pushed people away with intimidation and fear. Nate pushed people away with a smile and an invitation and a couple of words. It was so much harder to get past their leader's barriers. Sophie had been so sure she was easing her way inside, to that inner Nate that so few ever saw.

Now she was afriad that her greed, her habits as an art thief, had had made her loose whatever tenuous trust he'd had in her. That her selfish plot only made him push her away once more.

Looking into his icy eyes, she was certain that everything she'd gained was gone.

"I understand, Nate."

He stared at her for a moment longer before nodding, satisfied. "Alright." Taking a half-step back, he tossed the remander of his scotch back, draining his glass in one move. With a clink of ice, he set the glass in her hands, his face back to his usual, cocksure, I've-got-a-plan expression. "Alright. Let's go steal us a gallery."

The care he took not to touch her as he moved past hurt more than anything he could have said.

**OOOO**

**Parker's comment in The 12-Step Job about Nate not touching people because of "the hole in his heart" was so poignant to me that I just had to use it in a fic. And then there was that whole Sophie fiasco in the season finales, and I just couldn't keep this plot bunny away. I had to use it.**

**I hope I kept them in character. I had the hardest time writing Nate's part, but I'm pretty sure I did alright. Review and let me know? Please and thank you!**

**~Until next time!**


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